


Reflections

by ursusamericanus



Category: Austin & Murry-O'Keefe Families - Madeleine L'Engle
Genre: A series of one-shots, F/M, Mostly Fluff, POV from each character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-02-06 04:27:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1844374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ursusamericanus/pseuds/ursusamericanus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An ongoing lot of one-shots of Calvin and Meg.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This will probably never be finished because I'll keep adding more (I write one one-shot at a time). I thought this fandom could use a little more Malvin. Thanks for reading and feel free to add feedback!

Meg put her fork down and looked across the oak table at Calvin. They hadn't spoken for a few minutes, but the silence was appreciated and comfortable, not awkward. Calvin, with his still-red hair (although it was browning) and his knowing blue eyes, understood that the air did not always have to be humming with conversation. Meg remembered her high school days, when time best left for quiet contemplation was hurriedly filled with trivial information that served only to say something, anything. Then, on the star-watching rock with this gangly, oddly intelligent boy, silence came like a cool breath of air, and in that silence rivers between them were bridged that words could never have hoped to cross.

.

Calvin waited. He studied the grain of the oak table, and wondered how old the tree was when it was cut down. He looked at the freckles on his weathered hands and imagined constellations between them. He gazed at the person adding garlic to a pan on the stove. Dinner would not be ready for some time, and to sit at the table and wait would come off as rude to anyone who didn’t know him as well as she did. She was too engrossed in her task to have noticed him come in and sit down. Cooking had become one of her favorite hobbies, which he found interesting since she had had so little faith in herself when they first began living together in this creaky old house. Besides, Calvin had soft footsteps, and he liked to wear his knit socks that his mother had made for him when he was young (they were far too big for him then - his mother had sometimes forgotten which son she was knitting for). They were a deep pine green, the color he liked best. Calvin had decided this was his favorite when he first noticed the color of Meg’s eyes that first night on the star-watching rock so long ago. After all these years, he still thought about that night often, and how he had first known what he wanted. He didn’t usually get much of a chance to think about that, since he was living in a house with lots and lots of other people, and they were always asking him for help on their homework or staying up late to drink and watch television. But now the air was mercifully still, save for the song of the peepers by the pond, and he decided that one day he would have a vegetable garden, and a house not too close to the road so his children could play safely and look for worms in the front yard, and he thought that he wanted to marry Meg. He remembered being a little frightened by this thought, since he was only sixteen and he knew that he couldn’t even start to understand how much of his life he had left to live. But at the same time there was a sudden reassured feeling, like a fuzzy warmth starting in his chest and spreading all the way down through his toes. He focused on a star and sent a quick thank-you to God, and suddenly he had a thousand thoughts about his future, and how many stars there were, and whether God would be okay with him marrying young or not. But then Meg turned herself around so she was facing him, and she looked at him with those big eyes of hers, and the only thing in his mind was why his favorite color wasn’t already pine green.   
Calvin hadn’t noticed he had been staring at his hands again. He looked up, and Meg was already putting the carrots, picked from their garden outside, into the stew. Calvin knew what would happen. She would finish, turn around and notice him, give him some sarcastic remark about being impatient. Then he would set the table while she told him about her day and her students, and then they would eat, and Calvin would tell her about what he was doing at the research institute. They’d have a couple pieces of dark chocolate, both their favorite (Calvin remembered when they noticed the similarity - Valentine’s Day, his freshman year in college - he had gotten Meg earrings shaped like starfish, and she still wore them often; she had gotten him a cactus, but she couldn’t keep it alive before she gave it to him - good thing he was the biology major, Calvin joked). They would wash up for bed while reading articles from their favorite magazines, National Geographic for Calvin and Mental Floss for Meg, and Calvin would take off his pajamas and just stay in his boxers (he had always been warm at night), and Meg would change into a nightgown, maybe the lacy one that Calvin secretly liked the best. Then they would climb into their big rickety bed and he would hold her close to him and they would talk about things they thought about. They would say a prayer and turn out the light, and would sleep right away if they were tired enough, and if not they would keep talking, but in whispers. At 5:00 Meg’s old clock radio from college would play the classical music station, and they would wake up and watch the sunrise and make tea. Yes, this was Calvin’s usual routine, except he didn’t normally sit at the table early and watch his wife cook. But he was feeling extra contemplative tonight, and he hadn’t seen Meg since morning.


	2. Chapter 2

Ionian, Meg thought as she gazed at the large pillars of the library. It was a beautiful building, right down to the robins’ nests on the big windowsills and the ivy that climbed around its walls. Although Meg had never been much of a city person, this was the type of place that she could spend all day in, walking quietly out in her flats and scarf only to retrieve two bowls of soup (tomato for her, veggie chili for Calvin) from the local cafe downtown. She was an overthinker, and she chose her activities based on their ability to distract her from her ever-active mind. Books, with their never-ending wealths of knowledge and scores of experiences, were perfect. And their ideal home was the big library in the city. Meg loved keeping books at home, and cozy as sitting in a big armchair with a blanket and cup of tea was, the library, with its quiet souls, high ceilings, and endless possibilities, would always be her favorite. Plus, she often came here with Calvin, and she could pretend to be productive and not interrupt his research while sneaking glances at him. He noticed sometimes, and grinned at her before returning to his work. She even caught him staring at her once in a while, which still sent a thrill through her bones after all these years. Calvin had changed quite a bit since the time they first met in high school. He was still thoughtful, introverted, gentle, all the things that made him Calvin (too many to name), but he was not the awkward, lanky teenager that he used to be. He was still quite tall, but his long limbs were leanly muscular instead of scrawny, and his face had traded childish roundness for sharp cheekbones. His hair was darker now but still quite red (Meg quite liked to run her hands through it when he wasn’t paying attention). Meg’s favorite physical feature of his was also the one that bothered her the most. He had eyes that were the brightest of blues, maybe the color of the robins’ eggs out on the windowsill, and they still gave him perfect 20/20 vision. Meg had needed glasses for as long as she could remember, and although he never discussed eyesight with her, she had been stewing for a while over her inability to see without a hunk of plastic and glass in front of her face. The only thing that shut her up was when Calvin came over to her, took off her glasses carefully, and kissed her soundly.   
Now she was sitting with her chin on her hand, gazing intensely at Calvin, thinking about that very thing. She blinked rapidly and returned to her previous sitting position, remarking that anyone who had seen her must have thought she was a total stalker. She was, really. Maybe she had good reason to be, though. When they took the train together into the city, she noticed that all kinds of girls (even a few boys - she was lucky he didn’t swing that way) stared at him. Some tried to hide it, but others had expressions that were blatantly lustful, and Meg often felt like getting out her seat to give them a good talking-to. She always hesitated, though, when she looked at Calvin herself, and saw that he was oblivious to any attention, either speaking with her or reading a book quietly. Boys are silly, she thought fondly.


End file.
